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I have two first dates this week, on my only nights off. I don’t really know much about either, perhaps that is what I have resorted to now. I know that I found them “interesting” enough to contact them, but it’s a mental block I can’t get past. I’m not retaining details about them. My heart doesn’t want to.

Last week, I went on one first date. This gentleman, the Legal Design Guy, doesn’t know my ex like I thought he might (thankfully), he was getting into the music school as Type Geek was leaving. Also, it turns out he knows a circle of people who I know, which also don’t know Type Geek, so that explains it. So, we had oysters, we had drinks, we had pâté and confit and more drinks. Conversation was fine, but it felt more friend than anything. There is something slightly smarmy that I can’t get past, that I don’t find sexy. I can’t pin point it exactly, but it’s there.

Remember my Jewish Sex God from the very beginning? The one who ushered me into the folds? Well, we were having a conversation the other night, our friendship never really being the same since my trip to visit him that weekend. In the course of the dialogue he mentions that we had no sexual connection and proceeded to tell me why. Now, it’s fine that he didn’t feel a connection to me, but it isn’t fine that he decided to tell me that my being nervous at the reality of having sex with a well endowed man after 12 years of non penetrative lesbian sex translated into being a horrible lay who he felt ashamed to touch. WHAT? Yeah, so, he said that I was largely unresponsive, behaving as a victim of sexual abuse does, because I didn’t make much noise, because I didn’t show him how much I was enjoying sex with him. That I was too inside myself and didn’t give much to my partner, that he felt awful continuing to touch me because he felt that I must have been abused because I seemed to be in another place. Ok, once again, WHAT? Again, 12 years…non penetrative lesbian… flies to Seattle to have weekend sex romp with well endowed male friend… maybe, just MAYBE, I was nervous and shy and insecure about the entire thing?! What a dick, and I am NOT talking about his dick. I felt shitty afterwards, so I ended up emailing Type Geek for his take on my sexual style and he confirmed that Seattle is a DICK, and that I should NEVER give another thought to it, because I was obviously nervous and that he had zero concerns with my style. Thank you Type Geek. Grrr, Seattle. Seattle had no idea why I was angry, which at first I wasn’t. After I thought about it though, that is when I started to get angry, and offended.

So, yeah, Type Geek, we have texted. I apologized to him for not being able to pretend I don’t care and just cut ties. I’m not done with him. I can’t shake that a huge part of me believes that our story hasn’t ended yet. It’s just not our time. But, I want it to be. I know I can’t rush it, but I want to. I want the life with him that I know we can have, but he doesn’t have enough balls yet to have faith, to let go, to grasp something unknown, rather than his own fear. He needs time, he needs some self work, and I just need to live my life, which includes dating other people, while he does his work. Someday I will try again.

If you all think I am foolish, honestly, fuck you. I’m not on this journey for any of you, for how you would do it. It isn’t a choose your own adventure, and you don’t have the right to be angry at the roads I choose to take, because they are different from the paths and methods you would. This is MY story, and when I am laying in my final hours, I owe explanations to only my heart and the hearts of those I have chosen to embrace into my own.  I thank you all for reading, for getting involved and attached and relating, but in the end, this story is uniquely my own and I have no regrets about how I am living it and loving through it, even if that means I am just filling the spaces between Type Geek. Even if that means I am frustrating the hell out of my readers.

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It’s funny, meeting someone in person whom you have been virtual friends with for over a year. Nearly 13 months of sexual tension and in person, we are comfortable pals, yet beyond that, perhaps not much else. Internet Skype boy was having a weekend of bad reactions to some new migraine meds which ironically were causing low drive issues. The irony does not sneak past me here. I wanted a weekend of unbridled carefree fucking after 11 months of loving someone who had low sex drive issues and low interest issues. Nonetheless, we did have sex on Friday night, but the first time you fuck anyone is odd, grooves not found, rhythms not synced, and so I extended my trip one more night, to see whether things could line up more.

In between my first and last night… Parisian Macarons from BisousCiao. in flavors like Sour Cherry, Champagne Cocktails from Bubble Lounge and strolls through the Bowery. Apple Cider from The Union Square Greenmarket, naps on $7,000 couches at The Conran Shop, viewings of Time Bandits, and jokes about how I have lost my NYC street cred after ten years away.

So, how was the sex, second go around? It’s different. It’s not Type Geek. I was detached, yet forced to be present because of the sensation of fucking someone much larger than your previous partner. We fucked, it was fine. It was the punctuation, the ending to my one-sided relationship with a man I loved who couldn’t give anything except the occasional dinner, concert or overnight snuggle. Until there was sex with someone else, there was always just going to be Type Geek in my rearview mirror. After Skype boy and I fucked, after he washed up and went to bed, I laid there. The only night I was unable to relax and sleep. I missed Type Geek, even the small amount that I had him, the small amount that snuck through without him seeing it cozy up to me. I couldn’t help but wonder, has he thought of me at all since he saw me last. Did he ever miss me or was I unable to imprint myself even that much on him. I know it isn’t a reflection on me, it is merely a reflection on him and his bigger deeper issues, but nonetheless, I feel the loss and miss the him that I knew in those dark quiet hours between dusk and dawn.

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only the Jew was smart enough to see what was around him and duck, where as the Italian was too focused on himself to realize what hit him across the head.

This weekend could have been a wonderfully relaxing and tender weekend for two people who have had a challenging year, a way to unwind and reconnect. Instead, I’m heading down to NYC for two nights and two days of who knows what with Internet Skype guy. Sex could happen. Sex probably should happen, I deserve that from the universe. Actually, I deserve a full body massage and really good oral sex, then the best 8 hours of sleep ever. That is what I need.

Since my last post, Type Geek has come out with a new plan… utter disrespectful douche. If you insult her character she will no longer come… that is his theory. Although his other theory… if you ignore her, she will no longer cum, was pretty effective as well. I don’t want to get into what he said, but it sent me into such a fit of anger and how dare you’s that I almost walked the three miles to his house and slapped him across the face. In the end, he still wasn’t successful in making me hate him, just succesful in making me feel sorry for him. It’s quite sad at this point, his complete inability to connect to another human. I hope that someday he gets over what his ex did to him and feels more secure in who he is. For his own sake.

So, the chapter is ended. Is the book of Type Geek finished? Life is long, we shall never know. Perhaps I will reconnect in 20 years at an auction of mid century modern furniture… perhaps we are meant to be old together, but first, we need to grow old separately. Perhaps he just needs to grow first.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch… There is Bi-Coastal Foodie who is shuttling between Seattle and NYC, a foodie who actually admitted that he thinks I might be the better cook. (umm, of course) There was a photographer that lasted a few days, only to run at me wearing a giant red flag after I didn’t text him by a certain time about a potential cocktail. Key word…. potential, not, scheduled. Finally, there was a gentleman, Shellfish Guy who had hit on me months ago and I had told, that I wasn’t in the place because I was seeing someone else. He has continued to pursue me and I figure, hell, why not. So, that is where I am currently at.

This time around, how will I approach things differently? I’m not sure. This time it is a whole new game. I’m no longer wondering if it is possible for me to connect emotionally to a man, I obviously did. Now, maybe my lesson is that if you can’t be with the one you love, find another, then love the one you’re with. It might not be the same soul wrenching, powerful stuff that makes you JUST KNOW. But, maybe it can still be pretty good.

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